There are universal truths and universal assumptions. You can’t mess with universal truths and with universal assumptions; well, they’re assumptions. Tread lightly, as you would with any assumption, my friend.

In some cases, there is some overlap as something can be universally true and universally assumed. One such case is the issue of jambands not being good in the studio and, as a result, not being able to make good albums. On the one hand, there is some truth there. Bands and acts who make their bones performing live and are fueled by that specific form of magic that comes with live performances will naturally struggle in the artificial and sterile confines of the recording studio. Jambands dropping a legitimately good studio album is rare, and success stories are limited.

But, there is also an assumption there, and it’s the assumption that if you’re a jamband, then you’ll obviously struggle in the studio because there are limits and no crowd and those things, among others, will act as insurmountable obstacles and challenges. Pesky roadblocks a band can’t get around. Yet, like most assumptions, it’s not entirely true. *clutches pearls* Jamband musicians are musicians too. Yeah, they are. And some are pretty damn good. So good that they don’t even see the roadblocks, or if they do, they see the roadblocks as a challenge and embrace the idea of hunkering down in a quiet studio and hammering out five-minute versions of tunes that, down the road, could easily go twenty minutes or more.

Again, though, the wins in the studio for our Jamband friends aren’t many. They’re not exactly blowing up the stat sheet. But that’s okay. It’s a classic “we don’t like you for that, it’s cool” situation. Albums for jambands are generally viewed as jumping-off points, and again, that’s okay.

Now, before getting into this ranking of the 10 best studio albums by a jamband, here are a few points of clarification.

Dave Matthews Band is not a jam band. I’ve made this case before, but if you’re new here, DMB is a great live act, but they don’t jam like a jam band. They ride vamps and grooves while members solo. It’s not the same thing, and because of this, Before These Crowded Streets, the band’s best album, is not included. The same goes for Primus and Sailing the Seas of Cheese. Primus are jamband-ajacent. They rolled in similar circles, Les Claypool especially, but no, Primus is not a jamband. Agents of Good Roots, a great band from back in the day who hung out with the hippies have a damn fine album One By One, but it’s not included here because kind of like Primus, Agents of Good Roots were jamband-ajacent.

Listen, there were a lot of hippie festivals back in the day, but that doesn’t mean all those bands involved were jambands.

Other bands not included here include Galactic, Soulive, Lettuce, and Rusted Root. Each one could have had an album in the mix here, but alas, none are truly jambands. Again, my friends, being jamband adjacent is a very, very real thing. Heck, the same could even go for The Black Crowes, who, according to their former drummer Steve Gorman, found it funny that they were lumped into the 90’s jam scene. But hey, the 90s were a wild time. No sense in relitigating that.

With those two points out of the way, we turn our attention to the ranking. These albums are ranked based on how good they are as a studio album by a jamband, not necessarily where they would rank in a ranking of a band’s discography. The criteria here is different, with part of that criteria being how a non-jamband fan or even casual jamband fan would receive these albums. Beyond that, it’s just different, okay. I think The Story of the Ghost is the best Phish record, but that album isn’t even on here. Why? Be patient, kid. We’ll get there.

Okay, let’s go.

10. From Good Homes ‘From Good Homes’

If you were to ask me what was the most fun I ever had at a concert, I’d think for a second and then reply that it was seeing New Jersey’s From Good Homes at the Recher Theater in Towson, Maryland in either 1998 or 1999. I can’t remember exactly, and that is a story for another time. But I do remember the show and dancing around crazy as a loon because these wonderful Garden Staters, with their eclectic mix of roots rock, folk, Celtic, and probably a few other genres, put on a hell of a good show. I owe my friend Kenny a lot, but I definitely owe him big time for turning me onto From Good Homes.

The band’s self-titled album was their second and is a more polished and focused record than their fun-loving and lively debut, Open Up The Sky. From Good Homes is light and wide open like the parts of the Garden State you miss if only driving on the Turnpike or visiting the shore. It’s the sound of the hills, fields, and mountains of the more rural parts of the state. You know, the garden part. It’s music that sounds like digging in loose soil feels- natural, organic, and energizing.

It’s a shame that the record ended up being a swan song for the band, as they disbanded in 1999. They would get back together about a decade later, but you can’t sleep on the spark they had for a few years there and how they were able to bring that spark with them into the studio.

9. Phish ‘Rift’

I went back and forth here, debating with myself which Phish album should be in this spot: Rift or Hoist? Remember, this is about the best studio albums by a jamband, and for however you may feel about Hoist, as a record, it’s not bad. It’s actually pretty good, and truth be told, for a lot of 1.0ers, it was probably their first introduction to the band. Yet, for all of the delightful accessibility of Hoist, Rift is where the rubber meets the road. It’s Phish’s ‘we’re not effin’ around album’ and come on now, you have to respect that.

Rift was Phish’s fourth studio release and their second on Elektra, and I think we should really just pause for a second and appreciate the balls on Phish to make their second major label album a dense, engaging, sometimes head-scratching but all the time enjoyable concept album about a fella dreaming about the rift developing in his relationship with his lady friend. Through 15 songs, Phish dives head first into the concept in a way only they can.

Even as baby Phish, the band was keen on bringing different styles together, and on Rift, it was their first time doing so more smoothly and successfully.

The record may be a lot to take in, and it’s not without a few skips, but hey, Phish, A for effort, guys. Really excited to see what y’all get into next.

8. Goose ‘Dripfield’

As we emerged from the darkness of COVID and the quarantine that came with it, for a lot of us, there was a new band to check out. Goose had entered COVID times with a bit of momentum, managed to keep it going during that time, and when live music gradually re-entered our lives, there they were, ready to make Jamband Twitter all sorts of contentious, for better or worse. Ah, kind of for the worse at times, if I’m being honest. Let Goose be Goose, I say!

Yet, before I said that, I was hesitant to check them out. I don’t know. Their name was kind of dumb, and frankly, I just didn’t know if I needed another jamband in my life. It’s like friends. At a certain point in your life, you’re good. You have your friends and kind of don’t need anymore. But I gradually was worn down and decided to check these Connecticut youngsters out. I didn’t start with one of their live shows. I started with their 2022 album Dripfield.

It was really good. It is really good. I remember my first thought being that it sounded like a combination of Local Natives, Strangefolk, and when Vampire Weekend goes a little more mellow. I didn’t really hear much Phish at all, which was a bit surprising given all I had read on the artist formerly known as Twitter. Of course, that would come later, once I started listening to their live shows, but as a studio record, Dripfield is all things to everyone at once. It’s a little bit pop, a little bit jam, a little bit indie rock, a little bit classic rock, and a little bit of whatever the hell kind of good stuff is happening on “Arrow.”

“Arrow” was what sealed the deal for me and made me a fan of the band. And while live versions are usually fun, none of them match the pure joy of the studio version. And that’s kind of weird to say, given the circumstances.

But then again, Goose can be a weird band to talk about.

7. Strangefolk ‘Weightless in Water’

Oh, Strangefolk. Did you know they were one of the first jambands I really got into? Yeah, true story. It was a New England thing, but as the 90s started to get a bit long in the tooth, Strangefolk became one of those prized up and comers in the scene and became a national thing, although their bread and butter was the East Coast. The band always had delightful harmonies, wonderful acoustics, and songs that felt like summer, which were all traits that lent themselves pretty well to the studio.

Weightless in Water, much like From Good Homes, was Strangefolk’s more polished and refined second album. Their debut album Lore was good fun and a nice introduction to the band, but there was maturity and gravitas to Weightless in Water. Any criticisms of the band’s live shows, how they tended to feel muted and restrained, were flipped when it came to talking about the band’s work in the studio, especially Weightless in Water. Driven by strumming guitars and soaring vocals, the album is an incredibly easy listen. It’s the kind of album you want to play when the windows are open and late spring/early summer breezes are kicking around the backyard.

The jamband scene, like all genres, is littered with what could have been acts, and Strangefolk is one of those. I wonder if they had come around a decade or two later, things might have been different.

6. Allman Brothers Band ‘Eat A Peach’

Look out! Classic coming through. Tip your caps, kids. This is the Allman Brothers Band we’re talking about.

The band’s third album is arguably their best and definitely their most noteworthy studio effort. It was also their last record with Duane Allman, who had died four months before the album’s release. Eat A Punch throws a bit of a curveball at you halfway through, starting with a thirty-three minute “Mountain Jam” followed by “One Way Out” and “Trouble No More,” all of which were recorded at The Fillmore East in 1971. Adding a live recording or two to a studio album certainly isn’t all that out of the ordinary, but dropping those live tunes at the halfway point is certainly an interesting move.

Wait, it was 1972. The album came out on vinyl. Damn my streaming-addled mind!

Released as a double record, the first part of “Mountain Jam” is all of side two, and the other two tunes kick off side three. The rest of “Mountain Jam” commanders all of side four for itself. Must be a big mountain.

So while not a traditional studio album, Eat A Peach is still enough of one to be considered, and please, the studio tracks crush 94% of every other recording a jamband has ever done. The Allmans have such a lush, full sound; it’s something of a miracle a studio was able to capture it all, but Eat A Peach does and then some.

5. Widespread Panic ‘Til the Medicine Takes’

I have no idea how many albums Widespread Panic has released. Ten? Fifteen? Twenty? I don’t know. It feels like Panic has been around forever, and as a result, they have a bunch of records to their name. Or they don’t. Dave Matthews Band has also been around for a long time, and they only have eleven studio albums. It’s almost as if these jamband kids prefer touring and playing live as opposed to hunkering down in the studio.

What I do know is that ‘Til the Medicine Takes is the sixth studio album by my dear Widespread Panic, and I also know that both their debut album, Space Wrangler, and album number seven, Don’t Tell the Band, were also considered for this list. If I’m being honest, a couple of other albums of theirs briefly flirted with being included because, what can I say, I love Widespread Panic. The older I get, the more they’ve become a reliable go-to for me, and I appreciate that about them.

I also appreciate ‘Til the Medicine Takes because it’s a hard-charging, yet easy-living, good ol’ southern rock album. The record has the air and vibe of a band putting it all together and operating at the peak of their powers. You’d be hard-pressed to find any skips on the album, and at a tight 59 minutes, it’s an easy album to put on, press play, and let it ride until “Nobody’s Loss” wraps.

4. Blues Traveler ‘Blues Traveler’

Too much harmonica? Yeah, maybe, but peak Blues Traveler was a beast. Gritty at times, whimsical at times, Tri-State funky at times. I don’t feel like history has been all that kind to John Popper and company, but history can be dumb. Blues Traveler was really, really good. And let us not throw shade at their jamband bonfides. They were, after all, the driving force behind the H.O.R.D.E. festival, and if you don’t know what that is, ask your parents. They probably do.

Blues Traveler’s high water mark was their fourth album, four, which was their breakout record thanks to “Hook” and “Run-Around” and you know, I almost included it here. I really thought about it. It’s a really good album that still sounds good today, and if you say it isn’t, I will lock you in a dark room and blast “Crash Burn” until you come around, which you will.

Oh yes, you will.

But it had to start somewhere, and while in some cases I’ve gone with second or third albums that highlight a band developing a more polished, mature sound, I go back to the beginning with Blues Traveler because their self-titled debut is remarkably fully formed and fully realized. These dudes knew who they were and knew what they were going to be about from the jump, and the album reflects that.

So, while the world may have moved on from the band, or at least a good chunk of the world that was initially enamored with them, their moving on is doing themselves a disservice because Blues Traveler through four are still rock-solid albums from a rock-solid band.

But yeah, at times, the harmonica was a bit much.

3. Grateful Dead ‘American Beauty’/’Workingman’s Dead’

It didn’t feel right having the Grateful Dead’s American Beauty on this list and not including that album’s partner in crime Workingman’s Dead. Released within months of each other, the two albums feel like one singular work and represent the Dead exploring the bounds of folk rock and Americana as they left the weirdness and wild times of the 1960s behind. Yes, American Beauty is clearly the stronger of the two, but just don’t sleep on the little brother over there, noodling away on “Dire Wolf” and “Casey Jones.”

With that out of the way, American Beauty is a damn near master piece. It’s lush and wonderful, creating a beautiful atmospheric tapestry of acoustic guitars and delicious harmonies. It’s the Dead’s we’re not effin’ around album and it shows. The record is full of Dead classics. “Ripple,” “Box of Rain,” and goddamn “Friend of the Devil.” It’s an embarrassment of riches and easily the band’s best studio work. And that’s with all due respect to 1969’s Aoxomoxoa, which is a mighty titan itself, but not the songwriting master class American Beauty is.

What helps set American Beauty apart from other Dead albums is how accessible it is. How a mere casual fan or someone not into the Dead at all can get into it, enjoy it, and take a song or two and run with it, listening to it forever. The record is also the counterpoint to anyone who dares to question the musical ability of the band. Chumps jacked up on acid and free love aren’t pulling off American Beauty.

The Dead were true craftsmen, and American Beauty demonstrates that beautifully.

2. moe ‘Tin Cans and Car Tires’

I’ve always felt that every jamband has one or two other bands they ride with alongside their main love, whether that main love is Phish, the Dead, the Allmans, or these days, Goose. In those hazy days of the late 90s for me, my side piece was moe. God, I loved moe and don’t how many times I saw them between 1998 and 2003. A generous estimate is a bunch, and we’ll go with that. I always loved how moe wasn’t afraid to dip their toes into hard rock and flex their heft and muscle. It was what separated them from a band like Strangefolk. moe wasn’t afraid to get heavy, get weird, get funky, get whatever.

moe was moe and moe rocked.

In 1998, moe was on the come up, having started to generate a following due to their relentless touring and release of three pretty good to pretty solid albums. They seemed primed to be the next great jamband to emerge from the wilds of the northeast (or in their case, upstate New York). Then they went and dropped their best album Tin Cans and Car Tires and oof, to quote my dog Benny, “shit got real, yo.”

Tin Cans and Car Tires is a monster album from a monster of a band. From the record’s first few notes of rolling drums, there is a sense of joy that the album brings and each song demands you turn the volume up more so by the time you reach the epic “Plane Crash” at the album’s halfway point, your speakers are already motioning to the sideline for a substitution. Oh, and “Nebraska.” Come on, now. I’m sure there are better moe songs, but there are few that I love more, and if “Head” isn’t on your playlist of driving songs, you’re doing something wrong.

It’s just a great album from start to finish, and if you’re wondering, no, I did not wrestle with the idea of placing it ahead of American Beauty for very long. Okay, cool.

1. Phish ‘Billy Breathes’

Billy Breathes is considered to be Phish’s American Beauty, a quiet, reflective, and mature album that showcases a band itching to prove itself as more than just a great live act. Of course, then the album starts with the one-two punch of “Free” and “Character Zero,” and I don’t know, man. I don’t think anyone knows anything.

Of course, then the album shifts gears with “Waste,” and then the American Beauty comparisons start to make a little bit of sense. But I, for one, still kind of chuckle at how Phish’s quiet album starts with two tunes that would go on to be two big ol’ loud hallmarks of their live shows. Phish is funny that way.

Expectations and comparisons aside, Billy Breathes is a magnificent album that caught the band right in the middle of the 1990s, as their shows and tours were getting bigger and bigger, and the circus swirling around them was erecting larger tents. Their first stab at a sixth album seems to have better reflected the growing chaos than what would eventually be released and was thankfully shelved in favor of working with producer Steve Lillywhite, who had helped Dave Matthews Band successfully bring their sound into the studio. Lillywhite helped the band focus and find a direction that led them to producing tight yet still experimental songs, something that is part of the appeal of Billy Breathes; it’s still Phish through and through.

Billy Breathes also served as something of a set break for the band, as their next album, The Story of the Ghost, would help chart their direction for their next stage and the evolution of their sound. Billy Breathes is them taking some quiet time in between craziness, and when listening to their discography, that break is a welcome one. You could argue that the band needed a reset around the time the record came out, and the calm it provided helped prepare them for everything that would come next. It’s also, much like American Beauty, wonderfully accessible for those not all in on Phish. It’s a direct, concise, wonderfully crafted album that is light of eccentricities and oddities and heavy on remarkable songwriting and musicianship.

The record is so wonderful because, in the end, it’s Phish without the bells and whistles and flying hot dogs. It’s just the four members of Phish in a now defunct studio in the wilds of upstate New York doing what they do best- playing music for each other that they hope others might enjoy as much as they do. There’s not much more you could ask for.

Well, except for maybe a different album cover.

Categories: Music

Tags: Goose, grateful dead, Jambands, main, Phish, top